A World Without Music
by Morrigana
Summary: This story might get me banned, but I never could sit around and ignore an injustice when I saw one. Don't worry, it's still fun, and js too.
1. You Remind Me of the B

A/N: This story is meant to be in good fun, but it also brings up some important points.

Disclaimer: I don't own the Labyrinth, any of the famous people mentioned below, or the real life person that JadeAmy is based on. I would like to thank that person for not fussing too much when I used her in the story.

It was five a.m., and Sarah was absently typing away at her computer. She had to be on the set in less than an hour, but she had awakened inspired and felt compelled to write for a while. This was happening to her more and more these days. It was her secret obsession.

Ten years ago Sarah had gone on the most remarkable journey of her life. She had traveled through another world, defeated its ruler, and learned several important lessons along the way. Near the end of the journey, during her final confrontation with the Goblin King, he had offered her her dreams in exchange for…well she had never quite figured out just exactly what he had wanted. _Just fear me, love me, do as I say and I will be your slave._ It had been a strange request, full of dark promise that at fifteen she had been just too young to understand. She had rejected his offer, mainly because she had no idea what it would mean to take it, and because accepting the offer wasn't in the SCRIPT. The SCRIPT was very important, after all, and must be followed closely.

At least that's what she had thought at fifteen. Now at twenty-five she knew she got more attention when she ad-libbed her lines. She had, after all, won an Oscar for her role in the remake of _Gone With the Wind_, and she had ad-libbed nearly the entire script. Ebert and Roper said they had never thought of Scarlet O'Hara as actually having an Irish accent and cursing like a sailor, but Sarah had made it work.

It seemed that that Goblin King had granted her her wishes anyway, because Sarah was now an actress with worldwide acclaim. She had been romantically linked with every major motion picture star from Hugh Grant to Jude Law. She had nearly married Ewan McGreggor, if the National Enquirer was to be believed anyway. (She seemed drawn to men with sexy accents, and she had no idea why.) At the tender age of twenty-five she already had three Oscars, two for Best Supporting Actress and one, of course, for Scarlett O'Hara. She also had countless Golden Globes, a couple of Emmys, a Tony (She had played Eponine for a year when she was eighteen.) and even a Grammy.

That Grammy is what made her think the Goblin King had something to do with things. She had always been a fairly decent actress (or at least she thought so.) But although she dreamed of singing, she had never been particularly good at it. She was as surprised as anyone when she had landed the role of Maria in the remake of _Sound of Music_. She hadn't gotten an Oscar for that one, but she had gotten a Grammy. Ten years ago she couldn't hold a tune in a bucket, now she was a regular songbird. And she could dance. And, she discovered in a guest appearance on "_Angel_", she was a natural with swords and martial arts. She also could ride a horse like a pro, despite having never seen one before climbing on the back of one for _Return to Sleepy Hollow_. In fact, if she was forced to think about it, she had a great deal many more talents now than she had gone to the Labyrinth with, and she was quite sure she had the Goblin King to thank for that. Maybe she should be worried, but she was having too much fun.

One of her most secret talents, and one of the few she had had all her life, was writing. Oh, she ad-libbed lines and that was a form of writing she supposed. And occasionally she took a shot at a script or two, though none had been optioned yet. But her real heart, her secret love, was fan-fiction. And the only fan-fiction worth writing about, in her eyes anyway, revolved around that little red book that had started it all.

She logged in now, looking for "The Labyrinth" under books, when she saw there was new news on the home page. It was all fine and useless to her. Yes, yes, we now have stories in Ubangi and Tagalog. Yes, yes read only mode on Saturday. Then something caught her eye; something extraordinary and frightening and wholly repellent in the sheer Orwellian nature of it. "It has come to our attention that some people have been putting song lyrics in their stories. This must stop immediately. If you didn't write it, don't post it, we've always believed this here at Fafinet. These posts must be removed immediately to avoid account deletion."

Sarah's jaw dropped. What the hell? How could you write fan-fiction without music? How was it even possible? How would they even have a website left if they took away all the stories with music in them? And the biggest question of all, how were properly disclaimed song lyrics any different from properly disclaimed stories? Hell, there was no difference at all! Nothing on the site was original, it was all tied to someone else's original and copy written ideas. That was the whole point, that's why it was called FAN-FICTION!

Sarah wanted to cry. She had seventeen stories posted in the Labyrinth section, and all of them had song lyrics in them somewhere. The Labyrinth she remembered had been a very musical place, and she liked to write it that way. Many of the songwriters whose work she used were personal friends of hers, or at least acquaintances, and she doubted they would mind their songs being used in such a way. Of course, didn't know that she had dinner with Trent Reznor last Thursday, and they didn't care. All they cared about was that she had used the lyrics to '_Head Like a Hole'_ in one of her stories. They didn't care that she had recently attended an art exhibit with David Bowie and his lovely wife, all they knew was that the song '_Moonage Daydream'_ had played a prominent role in one of her fics. It was downright frustrating.

With a heavy sigh she shut down Explorer. She had to get to the set, and maiming her stories to make them fit into Fafinet's skewed view of the world would have to wait until she got home. She was about to shut down her computer when her AIM popped up with a message from JadeAmy. Amy was fan, of sorts. She had discovered her stories while she was still writing the fifth one, and had liked it so much she had IMed her to tell her so. They had been chatting ever since.

Of course, Amy had no idea who she really was. Sarah's IM handle as well as her pen name was Goblin Queen. (Yes, she was aware of the implications, but in this case was prepared to throw caution to the wind.) As far as Amy knew, she was a thirty-five year old mother of two who worked in a mall in the Bronx. Still, despite this Amy was one of her most cherished friends, because, oddly, Amy liked her for who she was. Geez, the world is a screwed up place sometimes.Amy claimed to be an secretary from New Jersey, but Sarah had her doubts about that as well.

'Hey Girl' Amy chimed.

'Hey!' Sarah answered.

'You writing?' Amy asked. This was always Amy's next question. She was Sarah's biggest motivator in that regard.

'I was, now I have to undo it all.' Sarah replied.

'What? Why?' Amy asked.

'Because of Fafinet's new rule.' Sarah pouted. She really was more upset about this than she should be. After all, she had a career, a life, why should she care if some suit's in a boardroom far far away hated music? But damn it, she didn't want to mutilate her stories!

'What new rule?' Amy asked. That Amy, always with the questions. Sarah reopened the web page and cut and paste the offending paragraph for Amy's viewing pleasure. There was a slight pause before Amy chimed again.

'What? That's ridiculous!' she raged.

'Its ri-goddam-diculous is what it is.' Sarah agreed.

'I mean, come on!' Amy continued. 'That's going just a bit too far! How are song lyrics any different from stories or movies or comic books?'

'That's what I said.' Sarah told her.

'I mean, it's like we're living in Russia or something!' Amy cried.

'Preach on, my sista!' Sarah laughed.

'So what are you gonna do?' Amy asked her.

'Right now I'm going to work. After that, I don't know.' Sarah said.

'You're not actually gonna take the music out of your stories are you? I mean, that would ruin them! That would be like taking the music out of Sound of Music.' Amy said.

'I agree.' Sarah told her, laughing at the analogy. 'But if the only other option is to have my account deleted… Anyway, I have to go to work now. Talk to you later.'

'Later'

Sarah hurried to her car, kicking herself for running late again. She hated being late, and that Tim Burton was a perfectionist.

&$&#&$&&(&

Meanwhile, underground….

The Goblin King sat lazily on his large purple throne, one leg thrown haphazardly over an arm rest, tapping his exquisitely muscular thigh with a riding crop. His head in his hand, he was concentrating on a disturbance that had made its presence known that very morning. He had no idea what was causing it, but a feeling of dread was slowly creeping over him. Even the playful antics of his goblins could not shake him from his gloom, nor could his favorite past time of kicking them into the wall.

As a last resort he summoned a crystal to his fingertips, uttering those words that never failed to bring a smile to his lips even on the worst of days. "Show me Sarah." He whispered. Unfortunately what the crystal showed him was not very cheerful, not to him at least. Sarah was wrapped in a passionate embrace with Johnny Depp. The Goblin King scowled with such force he nearly got a cramp in his cheek. Then he noticed the outlandish clothing they were wearing and realized they were filming a movie together. He heaved a sigh of relief. He could put up with most of her dalliances, but he wasn't sure if even he could compete with Johnny Depp.

As he was lost in his crystal and thoughts of how much better he could kiss Sarah than this weasly little man was doing, a goblin approached him tentatively. "Sire." It said. "You looks sad. Sing us a song?"

The Goblin King looked at the little goblin with a mix of amusement and disgust. Perhaps a song would make him feel better. He stood from the throne with such quickness the little goblin nearly fell over himself trying to get out of the way. As Jareth leapt from his throne he gave a wave of his hand and music began to permeate the throne room. A ticking, playful beat that caused all of the goblins to cheer and begin to dance. Jareth looked down at the little goblin who had suggested the song and put the riding crop beneath his chin. "You remind me of the….of the…" Jareth frowned, and the music stopped. Something was very wrong. He couldn't sing. No, no, he could sing, quite well in fact, but something was _preventing_ him from singing. The words literally were stopping in his throat.

Jareth began to pace. Was this the disturbance he had felt? Was this what was upsetting the balance of his world? An inability to sing…that could prove disastrous for the Underground. The very life force of nearly every creature here depended on music, without it they would surely die. His goblins watched him sadly as he wandered away to ponder this threat to his kingdom, then they went back to chasing chickens.

(&&(&)(&)(&()()

It had been a lovely day on the set, and Sarah was desperately tired. But Fafinet had set a deadline for removing song lyrics, and she had to get it done before her account was deleted. With a heavy heart she began the arduous task of tearing the soul from each of her stories. Some of them, she realized, made no sense whatsoever now that the music was gone, and so those stories she deleted all together. She felt as though she were killing her own children, but if it had to be done, it had to be done.

One story in particular stood out among the rest. The Goblin King and the Beautiful Young Girl (whom Sarah always called Kara, since the book had never really named her) were married and had a son who lived above ground and was a musician. The story was called _King of Rock n' Roll_ and while it was a bit cheesy perhaps, it was one of her favorites. In the story, the young Goblin Prince (who looked and acted remarkably like his father) falls in love with no other than the great actress Sarah Williams. She loved it, and had gotten great reviews for it. It tickled her to no end that she had used herself as a character and no one even knew. It didn't matter now, though, because it had to go. It was chock full of song lyrics and would make no sense at all without them.

When she was done destroying her work she went to the bathroom and took a long hot bubble bath. She lay her head back in the tub, enjoying the feel of the warm bubbles as they played against her skin. It reminded her somehow of a ballroom filled with bubbles she had once seen, long ago in a far away place.

This thought led her back to her stories. She often wondered what the Goblin King would think of her stories. She usually made him look good, because deep down she felt she owed it to him. She almost always let him get the girl, because she was beginning more and more to believe that is what he would have wanted. But above all else, she made him musical. She surrounded him with music and singing because that's how she remembered him. Now the music was gone, and even though it was only in her make believe version of his world, the thought of it brought tears to her eyes.

She got out of the tub, drying her hair with a towel and wrapping herself in a soft white robe. She padded into her opulent bedroom and climbed in to the large oak four poster bed. Her room was appointed quite extravagantly and perhaps with more masculine tastes then most would have expected. She often found herself choosing artwork or knick knacks or even furniture not based on her own preferences, but on what she thought the Goblin King would like. She had no idea why, but she was quite aware that she was doing it. If she had any idea how comfortable it made him as he watched her sleep, she might have stopped. Maybe.

She slipped the robe off and climbed naked into bed, not liking to have anything come between her and the two thousand thread count Egyptian Cotton sheets she had paid so much for. As she drifted off to sleep she thought she heard music playing, and the painful sounds of someone not singing.

A/N: Okay, okay, let the flaming begin. I'm sorry, I know a lot of you were expecting an update to GSTK, but this new rule was brought to my attention via a review the other day and I have been fuming about it ever since. I think most would agree with Sarah and her friend Amy that its ri-goddam-diculous. I haven't been able to write a lick on GSTK because of it, so I had to get this out of my system. If there are any monitors for out there, I hope you realize there is no disrespect intended. I am merely expressing my discontent in the most creative way possible. Please feel free to email me if you would like to talk about it.

Anyway, please review. This may be a rebel story, but its still a story and I worked hard on it and I'd like to know what people think. I love you all!


	2. Chilly Down to Death

Disclaimer: I do not own the Labyrinth, any of its characters, or Wynona Ryder.

A/N: WooHoo! I'm still here! I am absolutely flabbergasted at the response to this story. I'm actually enjoying the break from GSTK now, but I intend to wrap this up in the next chapter and be back to more serious endeavors shortly. I would love to give a shout out to everyone who has reviewed this, but there were just so many of them. I would like to say I am thrilled that I only received one negative review, and that was from some anonymous person calling herself Sarah. It was so laughable that I nearly cried. She insulted the intelligence of everyone who has ever put a song lyric in their story, and I mean that literally. Anyway, everyone else was very supportive, and I thank you from the bottom of my heart. I'm glad that so many of us feel the same. Anyway, here's chapter two. I hope you like it. Please review.

* * *

In the darkest shadows of the Lost Woods, deep within the lightless glades, a roaring bonfire burned brightly, sending cheery sparks into the starry sky. A group of playful, spindly creatures danced happily around the fire, intermittently removing limbs and tossing them back and forth to each other, before reconnecting them and continuing the dance. Occasionally they would all stop and raise their furry faces skyward, shouting with glee as the flames of the bonfire flared upward, brightening the glade further before dying back down. They continued this way for several minutes, their dancing music ringing into the night. It's discordant sounds were a clever match for the strangeness of the dancers, a fact not lost on any of them as they continued in their ritual of decadence and chaos.

As the music reached its crescendo, they opened their mouths in unison, intending to fill the night sky with the sounds of their jubilant voices. But as they tried to sing, the only sound to come from them was pitiful squeaks and petulant moans. Confused, the creatures looked to one another for answers, but there were no answers to be had. Again they tried, and once again they were unable to sing the song that had been sung by their ancestors since time beyond remembrance. The music died, and the Fierys were left to stare at one another, fear replacing their once joyful expressions.

Suddenly, they began to fall, their bodies weakening until they fell to the earth. The young ones were the first to feel the effects, as the children were always the first afflicted in any great catastrophe. The old ones were next, gasping as their life force was wrenched from their bodies by soulless fingers. Finally the adults, those in their prime, fell lifelessly to the ground. In a mass of fear and confusion and grief for those already lost they fell, until all was quiet in the Lost Woods, save the occasional crackle of the dwindling bonfire.

* * *

Jareth was in his study, the oaken doors closed and barricaded to keep out the constant barrage of frightened goblins. The epidemic of non-music was spreading, and his creatures were feeling its effects. Without the ever present music they had been accustomed to, life had become drab, and the color seemed literally to be draining from the world. Even he was feeling its effects, as a nameless depressing clung to him like a wet blanket.

Thus he had retired to his study, pouring over tomes, histories, prophesies, and even myths, searching for some clue as to the cause of the epidemic, and for possible ways to eliminate it. So far, the search had been fruitless, and the bone weary Goblin King slumped dejectedly into his chair, running his gloved fingers through his unruly hair. This was precisely the time he would have sang something sad, something mournful, if only he could sing.

Suddenly he heard a clamoring outside his door, and a muffled high pitch voice crying "Back! Back I say! Vile creatures, I must hold council with the King!" The Goblin King recognized the voice and knew that if its owner was here, and not guarding his post in the Bog, then truly the situation must be dire.

Jareth gave a flick of his wrist, removing the baracades at the door, and it swung open to reveal a very stern looking little dog wearing and eye patch and a kilt. "You have something to report, Sir Didymus?" Jareth asked, his voice much stronger than he was feeling at the moment.

"Your Majesty." Didymus began, giving a swift bow to his monarch. "I have come to report a great tradgedy in the Lost Woods."

The Goblin King stood upon hearing these words. "Tradgedy?" He asked, feeling his chest tighten with dread. "Do go on, Didymus."

When the little creature spoke again his voice was full of barely contained emotion. "It's the Fireys, Sire. They are all… dead."

Jareth paled. "Dead?" his voice was a whisper. "That is not possible."

"I did not believe it either, My Liege." Didymus said quietly. "So I went to see for myself. It appears they died together, during the Ritual of the Chilly Down."

"I see." The Goblin King stated, his face draining of much needed blood. "And do you know how they died?"

"I don not, Sire. There does not appear to have been a struggle, I believe they died quietly." Didymus answered, not noticing when his King winced at his words. _Quetly?_ The word hit quite close to home. Too close to have been a coincidence.

"Thank you, Sir Didymus." The Goblin King told him. "I shall look into the matter. Oh, and Didymus?"

The small creature looked up at his king. "Yes, My Leige?"

"Do be careful. There is something….happening." Jareth said, an uncharacteristic glint of concern in his mismatched eyes. "I should hate to lose one of my bravest knights."

The little dog preened at the unexpected praise. "Is there anything I may do to be of service, Sire?" he asked.

Jareth sat down again. "Only to go about your business, but keep your ears and eyes open. And of course, your keen nose as well."

"Yes Sire, of course." Didymus answered proudly, and left the King to his musings.

* * *

Finally, a day off. Sarah rose from the bed feeling refreshed and rejuvenated. She had a whole day with no where to be and no deadlines to meet. There were no wardrobe fittings, no auditions, no script meetings, not even any award show she had to get ready for. She had absolutely nothing to do!

After twenty minutes of excitement she began to settle down. Ten minutes after that she slumped aimlessly in a chair, feeling utterly bored. She had nothing to do! She could go shopping, perhaps, but the last time she had tried had turned into an utter fiasco. She mentally reinforced her decision never to shop with Winona Ryder again. She thought she might write, but then remembered the new no music rule, and changed her mind. What was the point? She could write words until her fingers fell off but she could breath life into them without music.

Instead she opened up AOL, intending to check her email. As soon as she logged in she heard the chiming of an IM.

'Hey Girl.'

'Hey.' She answered, waiting for the inevitable question. Therefore she was surprised when she saw something different.

'I can't believe you did it.'

'Did what?' she asked, slightly put off by the tone she perceived to be in the question.

'You took out all of the music! How could you?' Amy asked her.

'I told you, I had to.' Sarah sent back. 'They would have deleted my account and all the stories would be gone.'

'Do you have any idea what you've done?' Amy asked her.

'Excuse me?'

'They can't live without the music! If you take away the music, everything in the Underground will die!' Amy chimed, the cheerful sound effect a stark contrast to the severity of the words they announced.

'What?' Sarah asked. 'How will they die just because I remove the song lyrics from my stories? And…wait a minute…' She actually typed the little dot dot dots after the words, and she didn't know why. 'How do you know about the Underground?'

She expected a typed reply to appear on her screen. She did not expect to hear a cultured accent speaking softly behind her, and she jumped when that was, in fact, what happened. "Because it's my home!" the voice said pleadingly. "And you're killing it!"

&((&(&()(()&((&()(&&)&()&

Earlier, in the Castle Beyond the Goblin City:

The Goblin King was furiously thumbing through books now, his search becoming desperate. He had been at it for hours, with no thought to his health or personal hygene for that matter. His hair was matted, his clothing disheveled and his eyeliner was smeared. At the moment he looked a damn site more like a goblin than a Goblin King, but he didn't care. The situation had gone from disturbing to terrifying in a few short hours, and he didn't want to think of the consequences if he should fail to find a solution.

The book he was currently searching through had proven to be just as useless as the rest, and he slammed it closed. "Damn!" he cried. Looking toward the sky he closed his eyes and pleaded. "Please, just tell me what is happening."

"You don't have to beg, Brother Dearest, I'll gladly tell you everything I know." A softly accented voice said from the doorway. Jareth looked up and smiled weakly at the small redhead with the flashing green eyes.

"Jade!" he said, summoning all of his strength to greet her properly. He stood and crossed the floor to where she waited, dropping a brotherly kiss to each of her pale cheeks. "It's been centuries, my sister, what brings you here now?" he asked her. In truth, he was concerned for her safety.

Jade moved away from him and leaned against the oak desk, studying her fingernails. "There are no time for pleasantries, Jareth, when I believe your Kingdom is in grave peril."

Jareth cocked an eyebrow. "How did you know?" he asked her.

"I've been watching, little brother." She said. "I've always been watching over you, didn't you know that?"

"I thought you went Aboveground to escape the gobins." He smirked.

"Is that what father told you?" She sighed. "Our kingdom was dying, Jareth. There were too few above who still believed in us, and the magic that held our world together was dwindling. I went Aboveground to find a way to fix it."

"You must have succeeded." He said, "Because we're still here."

"I found a man, a writer of books. I inspired him to write about our world, and our kingdom. He took a few liberties, of course, but he got the essence correct, and that is all that was needed. Once the book was published and read by enough people, belief in our Kingdom began to grow."

"The red book…" Jareth mused. "I wondered where that had come from."

"Yes, and it did its job admirably, until the last fifty years or so. Now there are too few people with enough imagination to truly believe. At one point, it had dwindled to just one. I believe you know her."

"Sarah…" Jareth breathed.

"Yes, your Sarah." Jade answered. "And I have been watching her ever since she left our world. You gave quite a lot of yourself to one who rejected you."

Jareth flushed slightly, but quickly recovered. "She was…special."

"Yes, she was." Jade agreed. "And still is, as I'm sure you know." She glanced sidelong at him, but he made no move to respond. "At any rate, her imagination was powerful enough to keep this world alive. When she began to write stories about it, even more people began to believe. But there was a problem."

"And what was that?" he asked her.

"You and your bloody singing." She answered, a scowl firmly planted on her face. "She came to believe that this place couldn't exist without music, and that's how she's written it. It has become so much a part of the way she imagines this world that it has become fact. Even you believe it."

"You mean it isn't so?" he asked her.

"It never used to be, but now it is." She answered. "Without music everything in this world will die, because she believes it to be so. Thanks to you." She added.

"Then I don't understand, where has the music gone?" he asked, ignoring her gibe.

"She has been told by the silly website that posts her stories that she can no longer add music to them. What's worse, she has to remove the music from the stories already written." Jade said all of this with a look of hatred on her face, no doubt directed at the 'website' in question.

"This is why my subjects are dying?" Jareth asked. "Because of some…spider thing?"

Jade shook her head. "You really should get out more, little brother." She said. "Anyway, what it is isn't important. We have to make her put the music back in. It's the only way to save the Underground."

"But Jade, you don't know Sarah like I do. You can't _make_ her do anything." He said.

"Then we'll _persuade_ her, Jareth. Perhaps you'll have better luck with her if you refrain from threatening her life every ten minutes or so."

* * *

Back at Sarah's:

Sarah turned to find a small, thin, pale woman with dark red hair and flashing green eyes. She somehow appeared frail and yet unflinchingly powerful and beautiful at the same time. "Amy?" Sarah asked, looking back and forth from the woman to the computer and back again. "How…?"

"Come, come, Sarah." The woman said. "I'm surprised at you. You have more imagination than that." Something about the woman's accent, coupled with the words she had just spoken, made her seem frighteningly familiar. A strange thought entered her mind, and although she knew it wasn't remotely possible, she couldn't help herself from voicing the theory.

"Jareth?" she asked, her head tilted in confusion.

The woman laughed. "No, Sarah dear, I'm not Jareth, though I suppose there is some family resemblance, though not much. I look more like our father."

Sarah gasped. "Wait! You're his sister?"

"His older sister, to be exact. You may call me Jade." The green eyed woman gave a slight bow.

"Sarah stood, and began backing slowly toward the wall. "Why are you here? Why were you pretending to chat with me all this time?"

"Don't be afraid, Sarah, we don't have time for it." Jade said. "I've not been pretending to chat with you, I really was on AOL. I have a flat in Soho with a blazing broadband connection." Sarah looked even more confused, so she continued. "As to why I'm here, its to express the urgency that you put the music back in your stories."

"But Fafinet.."

"To hell with Fafinet!" Jade thundered. "The stories don't even have to be published! But you have to put the music back in."

Sarah's eyes narrowed with suspicion. "I don't have to do anything." She told her. "Why should I listen to you?"

The space beside Jade shimmered and a new figure appeared, a figure so achingly familiar that Sarah nearly fell to her knees at the site of him. "I told you she would be this way." The figure drawled. Turning to Sarah he smirked arrogantly in that unforgettable way of his, and his mismatched eyes twinkled. "Hello Sarah." He told her, and was as surprised as she was when she fainted.

A/N: Reviews are yummy to my tummy.


	3. No One Could Blame You

Disclaimer: I don't own the Labyrinth, David Bowie, Lou Reed, Jennifer Connely, or Joan or Melissa Rivers Thank God!

Jade sighed as Jareth rushed to catch Sarah before she hit the floor. "Smashing, Jareth." She huffed. "Just bloody brilliant! Your people, _our_ people, are dying and you scare the only hope we have to save them out of her bloody wits!"

Jareth scowled at his sister. "I didn't know she would faint." He said, hefting Sarah up and walking toward the bedroom. "Now let's get her comfortable somewhere and bring her round so we can fix this whole mess."

"The mess you caused, you mean?" Jade jibed.

"Oh just you shut up." Jareth growled and Sarah moaned in his arms. He looked at her and then back at his sister, his eyebrow raised. "There, see what you did!" Jade huffed but said nothing. They entered Sarah's bedroom and as Jareth made his way to lay its owner upon her bed, Jade stopped at the doorway and gaped at her surroundings.

"Oh, Jareth, what have you done to this girl?" she asked.

Jareth lifted his chin smugly. "I'm sure I don't know what you mean."

Jade lifted her arms and gestured wildly at the room. "This, Jareth, this is what I mean!" She ranted, pointing at the large mahogany four poster bed covered in soft black sheets. "And this!" This time she gestured toward a full length mirror that took up much of the far wall. "And those!" She pointed to a row of black pillar candles of varying heights that adorned the marble mantelpiece of the huge fireplace at the foot of the bed, and the rich leather chair that sat in front of it.

Again Jareth did his best to look innocent as he arranged Sarah comfortably on the bed. "I granted her certain…gifts….when she left our world." He told her. "Gifts she chooses to use on an almost daily basis. Because they are infused with my magic and my essence, they keep me in her thoughts and tend to exert portions of my personality on her. It manifests itself in strange places."

"Such as a compulsion to create an almost exact replica of your bedroom?" Jade asked in disbelief.

"Such as." Jareth said, innocently picking non existent dust particles off of the top of Sarah's head for want of anything else to busy himself with while he dodged his sister's annoying questions. Jade rolled her eyes and moved to the bed, taking Sarah's hand in hers.

"Sarah!" she called softly. "Sarah, wake up now, please." Sarah stubbornly remained passed out and Jade growled. She began to shake the girl gently. "Sarah! Come on now, we need you to wake up and write! This is no time to sleep, damn it!" Still Sarah was motionless. "By the Gods, Jareth." She sighed, exasperated.

Jareth pushed her not too gently out of the way. "Let me try." He said. Leaning close over Sarah he began to purr in her ear. "Come now, Sarah. Wake up!" He whispered, stroking her hair softly as he did so. His soft voice swam into her mind and pulled her towards it, towards him. Deep in her unconscious thoughts Sarah responded to this voice as she did nothing else, and she slowly followed its seductive timbre towards consciousness. She opened her eyes dreamily to find the Goblin King watching her with hooded lids. The smile she gave him was so enchanting that he never saw her hand coming until it had left its mark upon his cheek. He yelped in pain and jumped away from her. "What the hell…?"

Sarah sat up angrily in the bed. "That was for stealing my brother, and making me run your stupid Labyrinth, and the cleaners, and the bog, and everything else you did to me.

"Don't you mean for you, Sarah?" Jareth scowled and Sarah shot him and evil look.

"I'm not even going into that again!" she spat. Jade had been laughing hysterically until she noticed Sarah's attention was now directed at her. "And you!" She barked.

Jade jumped behind Jareth, peeking over his shoulder. "Me?" She said meekly.

"How dare you pretend to be a fan, pretend to be a _friend_, just so you can spy on me for _him_." Sarah shouted. At these words Jade's face twisted in righteous indignation and she stepped from behind her brother.

"I wasn't spying on you for him!" She said with a huff, pointing in Jareth's direction. "I assure you he's quite capable of spying on you all on his own. I really was a fan of your stories! They are quite lovely stories about my home, even if you did leave me out of all of them! Besides, I had to make sure you kept writing in order to safeguard the Underground."

Sarah stared at her, bewildered. "Huh?" she asked.

"Allow me to explain." Jareth said, sitting at the edge of the bed as Sarah pulled in her legs to make room for him. "Our world is build on magic, and magic is created in the imagination of humans. If humans stop believing, the magic dies, and so does The Underground, myself and Jade included. For a very long time you were the only human left that believed enough to infuse my world with the magic it needed to survive."

Sarah narrowed her eyes. "So what you're saying is I'm imagining you both."

Jareth shook his soft blond head. "No, no. We are quite real, but we can't live without your imagination. Just as you can't live without air."

"Ah." Sarah said, still completely clueless. "Well, since I obviously still believe in you, what is the problem?"

"The problem, Sarah, is that somewhere along the line you inexplicably picked up the idea that my world can't exist without music." Jareth said, shooting his sister a warning glare at the word inexplicably. "And now that you've removed the music from your stories, in your mind you have removed it from our world. And since you have imagined it as part of our life force, you've taken away part of our life force."

Sarah continued to stare at him blankly. "Let me put it another way." Jade continued, turning Sarah to face her. "You took out the music, and now everything in the Underground is dying."

"Dying?" Sarah gasped, understanding finally flaring behind her eyes.

"Yes." Jareth nodded sadly. "We've already lost all of the Fierys and most of the younger goblins. Even the Labyrinth's walls are beginning to crumble."

Sarah's eyes widened. "Oh, no! I did all that?" She asked.

Jareth took her hand. "You didn't mean to, Sarah. You didn't know." He said, wiping a stray tear from her eye. It meant a lot to him that he cared enough for his people to cry over them.

"What do I need to do to fix it." She asked, her face resolved.

"Put the music back in the stories." Jade said. "Make the Underground whole again, and you can stop the damage."

Without another word or thought Sarah jumped from the bed and headed back toward her study. Sitting down at the computer she began to pull the stories up, one by one adding the music back in. When she was done, she uploaded each one, songs and all, back to Fafinet. "What are you doing?" Jade asked. "I thought they had banned music?"

Sarah looked up at her, a mischievous twinkle in her eye. "The rule actually says complete song lyrics, so I left out a line here and there." She grinned. "Besides, the more people read this, the faster we fix the problem, right?"

Jade grinned. "I suppose." She said. As Sarah uploaded the last of the stories, Jareth reappeared, causing the two women to realize for the first time that he had left in the first place.

"It worked." He said, beaming, and Sarah jumped up happily, giving him an unexpected hug before regaining her composure.

"So its all fixed? The Fierys and baby goblins and everything are back?" She asked.

Jareth frowned. "Well no…not as such." He told her. "But the music's back, and the destruction has been halted."

Sarah looked at him sadly. "But they're all still dead?" she asked.

"Well, yes I'm afraid so Sarah." He said. "Death is pretty permanent. It would take more magic than even your vivid imagination can provide to reverse it."

Sarah slumped back in her chair, unshed tears threatening to spill over the rim of her eyes. Jareth knelt next to her, turning her hands over and kissing the palm of her hands gently. "You fixed the problem, Sarah. Nothing else will die. You should be happy." He told her.

"But I want to fix them all." She said quietly, more to herself than to him. They sat in silence for a long moment before Sarah spoke again. "Why did you grant me my dreams anyway?" She asked, and Jareth looked up at her confused.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"You offered me my dreams if I would agree to your terms, but I refused. You gave them to me anyway. Why?"

Jareth blushed. "Oh, I don't know." He said, standing, acutely aware that his sister was just as interested in his answer as Sarah was. "I suppose I realized that you were too young to understand what I was asking for. And I wanted to see you happy. You're very pretty when you smile."

"And you love her." Jade added and Jareth spoke before he realized what he was saying.

"Oh yes, there was that…oh wait a minute!" He caught himself too late, and turned to see a slightly awed expression on Sarah's face. Turning back to Jade he seethed impotently. "You tricked me!" He said, and was greeted with delighted laughter from his sister.

Sarah graciously let the comment go unmentioned…for now. "It's a good thing you did." She said cryptically and Jareth and Jade both spun around to look at her again.

"What?" They asked simultaneously.

"It's a good thing you gave me my dreams." She clarified. "Otherwise, I probably would have convinced myself it was all just my imagination, and eventually would have stopped believing. Or worse, forgotten altogether. But as it was, every time I sang a song or used a sword or rode a horse, I thought of you, and the Underground. I thought about it every day."

Jareth smiled and turned towards Jade, his arrogant smirk plastered to his face. "See." He said. "I saved the day."

Jade scowled. "That was just lucky." She pouted.

Suddenly Sarah had an idea. "Hey, hey! I have an idea!" she said. "If my imagination won't create enough magic to fix the damage, what about the imagination of millions of people?"

Jade smirked. "Sarah, your stories are good, but I don't think millions of people will read them."

"No, no, not Fafinet. I'm so over them." Sarah said. She stood and was waving her arms excitedly. Her creative juices were flowing, and she was relishing the adrenalin rush. "I'll write a screenplay about my trip through the Labyrinth. We'll turn it into a movie!"

Jareth scowled in confusion, but Jade's eyes began to light up as well. "Sarah, that's bloody brilliant!" she breathed. "A movie about the Labyrinth! If we did it right, millions of people would see it! The Underground would have enough magic to fuel it for thousands of years! And certainly enough to repair the damage that was done."

"And bring back the Fierys?" Sarah asked.

"Fierys and all." Jade said. "Do you really think you could get it done?" She continued, ignoring Jareth's confusion.

"Oh, I'm sure I could." Sarah said. "With your help, of course. And I'll ask David Bowie to play Jareth, he'd be perfect."

Jade squealed with unrestrained glee. "Oh, you're right, he would! They even look a lot alike. But do you think he'd do it?"

"I'm going to an art opening with him and Lou Reed next week, I'll talk to him about it then. But I'm sure if I offer to let him write all the music for it he'll jump at the chance. He's a bit of a ham, you know."

Jareth had kept his mouth shut up until now, having no idea what they were talking about, but this caught his attention. "Wait a minute, if anyone is writing music it will be me." He said.

Jade looked down her nose at him as though he were a new species of insect she was not previously aware of. "Are you kidding? When we could have David Bowie? I've heard the stuff you write."

"Some of it was pretty good, actually." Sarah said, and the turned to see her staring dreamily into space. Jareth smirked at his sister and she crossed her arms and turned away from him.

"Fine." She said. "Maybe the two of you can collaborate. I'd love to sit in on that conversation." She snickered a bit at the thought of trying to squeeze those two super egos into the same room, let alone the same song.

Sarah had gathered herself together and was once again all business. She turned to her computer screen and began to type.

* * *

Two Years Later:

Joan Rivers stared into the camera as she spoke over the din of screaming fans. "We're here live at Mann's Chinese Theater for the opening of the new Jim Henson film, 'The Labyrinth,' which has received critical acclaim. Here come the film's stars now making their way down the red carpet: David Bowie and the young actress that's taking Hollywood by storm, miss Jennifer Connely."

Melissa Rivers smiled woodenly at her mother. "And here comes the films writer, world renowned actress Sarah Williams, arm in arm with her new husband, Jeremy Kingsly, who as I understand wrote the score for the movie."

"He did indeed, Melissa." Joan said. "And aren't they the cutest couple? But I have to say, that hairstyle of his and those tight pants are definitely a fashion don't."

* * *

Meanwhile, Underground, the Fierys danced around a roaring bonfire, their voices raised raucously into the night.

A/N: Okay, well, that's it! I hope you enjoyed it! It was silly, it was short, and now its over. Back to more serious persuits. BTW, I hope everyone understood that Jeremy Kingsly was Jareth. I get so sick of 'Jared King.' Thanks to everyone who reviewed, thanks to everyone who read, and thanks to everyone for being such lovely people!

Please tell me what you thought about the ending.


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